A fellow decides to take off early from work and go
drinking. He stays until the bar
closes at 2am, at which time he is extremely drunk. When he enters
his house, he
doesn't want to wake anyone, so he takes off his shoes and starts tip-toeing
up the
stairs. Half-way up the stairs, he falls over backwards and lands flat
on his rear end.

That wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had couple of empty pint
bottles in his
back pockets, and they broke, and the broken glass carved up his buttocks
terribly. But,
he was so drunk that he didn't know he was hurt. A few minutes later,
as he was
undressing, he noticed blood, so he checked himself out in the mirror,
and, sure
enough, his behind was cut up something terrible. Well, he repaired
the damage as
best he could under the circumstances, and he went to bed.

The next morning, his head was hurting, and his rear was hurting, and
he was
hunkering under the covers trying to think up some good story, when
his wife came into
the bedroom.

"Well, you really tied one on last night," she said. "Where'd you go?"

"I worked late," he said, "and I stopped off for a couple of beers."

"A couple of beers? That's a laugh," she replied. "You got plastered
last night. Where
the heck did you go?"

"What makes you so sure I got drunk last night, anyway?"

"Well," she replied, "my first big clue was when I got up this morning
and found a bunch
of band-aids stuck to the mirror.
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